It’s kind of a shame–if only she died yesterday maybe this whole experience could have been avoided. She Dies Tomorrow is another fine example of a feature length movie existing where a short film should have been and even then that short film would be rather empty.

Amy (Kate Lyn Sheil) believes she is going to die tomorrow. Amy tells her friend, Jane (Jane Adams), who then believes she will also die tomorrow. Jane tells her brother (Chris Messina), his wife (Katie Aselton), and their friends (Tunde Adebimpe & Jennifer Kim) about her belief that she’ll die tomorrow. They all, too, believe they will die tomorrow. Amy wanders around on what she believes her last night to be, doing whatever and waiting for the inevitable…

I was really trying to find something nice to say, but jeez–this film is insufferable. It’s clearly going for more of a dream-like indie movie mindset where the feelings and mood take precedence over *everything* else, but for me this was such a misfire. Characters, storylines, and just about every other aspect of narrative is bypassed entirely resulting in quite a naval-gazing affair that seems to think hollow pomposity is endlessly fascinating. I love a good nightmare come to cinematic life or hellish fever dream of freakishness, but this is just dull.

The cast all does well enough with what’s expected of them, which is largely stare off solemnly while rambling “I’m going to die tomorrow.” Seriously, they all say that exact thing on an endless repeat–”I’m going to die tomorrow,” “I’m going to die tomorrow,” and again and again–then again and again and again and again. Have I made it clear how varied and colorful the dialogue is? As an actor all that matters is your time in the spotlight, of course, so I’m sure they found the tortured expressions accompanied by dramatic ACTING! tears nothing to complain about. Once you get the general idea of this thought virus spreading from person to person you’re pretty much done, so good luck with the rest.

If hearing the same exact words come from a series of vacuous, nothing people for 85 mins isn’t quite enough to rocket this to the top of your “Must See!” list well then what if I said you’ll also be experiencing peak indie-movie linger shots? Things like a bowl/keys on a table, feet standing in a room, a face staring at a tree, a sunset (ooohhh!!!), and quite an overall abundance of runtime padding. One character repeats a piece of music over and over as she rubs a wall, rubs the floor, stares off aimlessly, thinks about dying tomorrow, and wonders aloud about how hard wood floors used to be alive and now we just walk on them–pretty deep stuff, yeah? Get ready to have your worldview shattered.

Every feature I watch I like to go in as blind as possible since if I have no specifics my expectations are simply “be a movie” with no particular influence in any direction. She Dies Tomorrow doesn’t even really meet my “be a movie” expectation, which I think is pretty bare bones as far as standards go. This pretentious broken record feels more like watching someone work through their issues via film, which I’m sure *could* be entertaining or otherwise interesting, but absolutely isn’t as presented here. As far as who might find something worthwhile, I really don’t know–maybe the writer/director’s family, friends, and therapist?


3 out of 10 Pretentious Broken Records

She Dies Tomorrow
Runtime:1 Hr. 25 Mins.
Directed By:
Amy Seimetz
Written By:
Amy Seimetz